


Equilibrium

by purplejellosg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, post episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27138433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejellosg1/pseuds/purplejellosg1
Summary: Birthday fic for Lilianbones. After the events of Metamorphosis, Jack struggles to regain his balance.
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill
Comments: 17
Kudos: 67





	Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> Written on my phone so any typos/formatting issues are all my fault shared with autocorrect!

He was hovering, and he knew she knew it. Knowing he was being obvious about it didn’t make it any easier to stop.

There were a dozen things he could’ve - should’ve - been doing instead of hovering around Sam but short of Thor beaming him away, he had no intention of letting her out of his sight.

Not yet.

Doc Fraiser had given her the all clear after running a battery of tests and then some - he’d been lingering in the infirmary, behind the curtain out of sight from the two women, when he’d heard Sam complain about being used as a pin cushion. He’d also been listening when Janet explained she was just ruling everything out, given what they knew about Nirrti and her knack for leaving unexpected surprises.

He’d been there when Janet said Sam could leave but cautioned her to stay on the base for a couple of hours “just in case”. He knew as well as Sam did that the doctor had been strongly hinting that she get a couple of hours sleep in her quarters but Sam had gone straight to her lab, with Jack her shadow.

He didn’t fidget with the tools on her workbench, not even the ones he knew she deliberately left out for that purpose. He stood with his hands in his pockets, fingers clenching and unclenching.

If he didn’t, he’d touch her.

He was desperate to touch her.

It wasn’t the first time he’d come close to losing her but for a while there, it’d felt like the last time. He remembered all too well the pained gasps of Evanov, the desperation and fear that had permeated the cells as the Russian Colonel died.

He remembered thinking that Sam was next and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

It’s a miracle, luck, fate. 

Whatever it was, he was so damn grateful to whoever had decided today was not the day Sam Carter died.

He’d be more grateful if he could touch her, though. If he could feel the flutter of her pulse under her fingertips, under his lips. If he could hold her in his arms and feel her against him, warm and alive and his.

He glanced at the clock, saw her ‘couple of hours’ were up. His fingers clenched in his pocket and he cleared his throat.

“Sir?”

“Time to down tools, Carter. You’re off the clock.”

She opened her mouth to protest. Closed it again.

It was a testament to how tired she actually was that she didn’t argue and instead started to switch off the machines she’d been working on.

He fell into step beside her and they walked in silence through the hallways of the SGC, to the locker room where they got their jackets and keys, and up to the surface. 

If anyone saw them leave together, it was silently agreed that nothing would be said. They’d all heard about what happened before and on SG1’s latest mission; it was common knowledge this was one of those close calls it took some time to bounce back from.

Jack wondered how many times they could do that. Bounce back. He gave Sam a sidelong glance in the elevator and wondered if she thought it, too.

He led the way to his truck without comment, trusting her to follow him. Just as she let him drive them to his house without comment, trusting that the best place for both of them was somewhere they could be alone together.

#

Still without a word, utilising the silent communication they’d perfect over the years, when they got to his house, they went their separate ways for a short time. Jack went to start the fire and fix them something to eat, Sam helped herself to the use of his shower and the comfortable oversized T-shirt and shorts she’d claimed as hers the first time she’d slept over. Because she was still cold, she stole one of his sweaters, too.

“C’mon, you’ve got to eat something,” was all Jack said when she reappeared, reaching out his hand to bring her down beside him on the floor in front of the fire.

She accepted the hand he offered, lacing her fingers with his, a sense of calm settled over them both at the contact.

They ate in silence, sat together in front of the fire. Though she had to pull her hand away to pick at her food, she leaned against him, into him, the way she had in the cell.

“It was too close this time,” he said when they’d finished eating, dishes pushed to the side. He exhaled on a shuddering breath, drawing her close. “Too damn close.”

He felt her shiver, then felt her shift. He didn’t protest when she moved so she was lying down facing the fire and tugged him down so he was lying around her. Her back fit snuggly against his chest and he kissed the back of her neck, inhaling the scent that was Sam mingled with his shampoo.

“I’m here,” she murmured, the first he’d heard her speak since before they’d left the SGC. Her voice sounded hoarse, thick with tears she wouldn’t cry and fears she wouldn’t give voice to. “I’m here, Jack.” She turned in his arms, tilted her head in readiness for his lips as he closed the gap between them. “I’m here,” she whispered against his mouth, hands already working to divest one another of the clothes that prevented skin from meeting skin.

They took each other slowly, a tender affirmation that they were both still alive, that they’d beat the odds again and made it home.

Later, as the sweat cooled on their skin, Jack lay his head against her chest and listened as her heartbeat return to a steady rhythm beneath his ear. 

She was alive, she was here, and she was his.


End file.
